Way Back When
by Burman
Summary: A ChLex companion to Back Then, another of my stories.only the first chapter, from lex's past is up right now. Rated PG-13 for language and possibly some sexualityviolence later on
1. Pacific Waves

Way Back When  
  
Silence. Budum. Budum Silence Splash. Silence Budum Budum Silence.  
  
The holding cell was so quiet that Lex Luthor could hear his own heartbeat. "He did it. I know he did it." He whispered to himself. "He killed his own parents, my grandparents, he did it all for... for the money I'm sure" " GREEDY MURDEROUS SON OF A BITCH OF A FATHER!" he heard himself yell. "He did it. He killed his own parents, he lied to me all these years." "ALL THESE YEARS!" That's when another thought hit him. His father wasn't the only liar. "Clark Kent. Kent. A Liar." All these years. I should have seen why he saved me, why he was able to get away unharmed when my car made a 60 mile per hour b-line for his sternum." "but he saved your life, Luthor." " WHAT LIFE!? MY LIFE LIVED IN LIES AND DECEIT!?" "shhh shhh you'll get them to come back, medicate you again. You don't want that to happen again, do you?" "no, of course not, but he lied, Clark lied to me! "YOU LIED TO ME!" People have been killed for less. Dad would die for less. That's when the waves came back.  
In the silence of his cell, Lex Luthor could hear the waves again. Playing over and over again in his mind. Beating against the shore. Receding in then beating again. The monotony had driven him mad, not the island or all the trauma his father had falsely diagnosed. It was his father who had killed his own parents, his father who had pretended to be blind, his father who was maniacally paranoid. His father who had conducted the initial research on Level Three. It was his father who had pitted his two sons against each other, and had shot his own son, well, almost. It was his father who saw a weakness of some sort in Lex's baldness. It was his father who had tried to bribe his fiancée, and who was surely behind putting him on the island, and ultimately the source of the waves which now plagued his mind. They were probably playing the sounds on some sort of loudspeaker in his cell, by his mandate. That must have been the source. Lex looked frantically about his cell for the speakers. He didn't find any. "They must be hidden" he spoke, half aloud. "WHERE ARE YOU HIDING THEM!" " WHERE ARE THEY YOU NITTWITTED DRONES!" Wildly, he began to frantically try and free himself from his jacket. He viciously jerked from side to side, dislocating one of his shoulders. This feat being accomplished, slipping out of the straight jacket was quite easy. That was how Houdini did it. He only pulled down a few foam tiles before the guards came in and beat him into compliance as the put his straight jacket on, then soon after left before the green gas came from the ceilings. This new medicine was known to make even the strongest of men comply to a deep sleep. Lying prostrate on the ground, Les Luthor sunk into a deep and troubled sleep, dreaming of waves crashing against South Pacific shores. 


	2. Metropolis Med

Silence. Inhale. BeepBeep. Exhale. Silence. Inhale. BeepBeep. Exhale. Silence  
  
Lex Luthor woke with a start. He was in what seemed to be his private hospital room in Metropolis Med. "But How the hell did I get here?" He whispered to himself. Last he knew, he was drinking to his fathers... health, and his friendship with Clark . Yes, health. Then he had felt dizzy, and every thing went black. Now he was here, with an IV in his hand and a whopping headache. A nurse entered, them left quickly, soon after returning followed by a doctor. A very good looking doctor, a fiery redhead whose white coat and scrubs did little to conceal her smashing good looks and curvaceous figure.  
  
"Hello, I'm Doctor Pamela Isley, Doctor Robertson is currently on  
vacation. You were brought here 4 days ago, suffering from abrasions  
on your back and shallow puncture wounds, both of which seemed to be  
the result of your falling onto or against glass of some sort. We  
removed several shards from your back, and it is still healing, so you  
will likely feel a good deal of pain. One of the shards barely missed  
your spinal chord. However, the important fact in all of this is that  
your blood tests revealed traces of a very rare, very lethal,  
substance poisoning. We were barely able to find the cure, (an all  
natural one, might I add) in time. Given 20 more minutes, and you  
would have died. One of your cleaning women found you, and called 9-1-  
1 from your mansion in Smallville. Now, she said that there was a  
broken wine glass near you. I have reson to believe that someone  
poisoned your drink, and who ever it was certainly wanted to make sure  
you didn't wake up. Is there anyone that you can think of that would  
have done this to you?"  
  
"Yes, yes there is," It was quite clear to Lex who had done this: his  
father.  
"I was a key witness in the case of a cold, brutal murderer. but I'm  
afraid Doctor... Isley that the man is already behind bars."  
  
"Oh. Well, none the less, I would suggest that we station security  
outside your room."  
  
"That won't be necessary. I will have my own personal security team  
stationed immediately."  
  
"Well then, I guess I should tell our security they wont be needed.  
I'll leave Nurse Barrett here with you, to keep an eye on you. We  
don't have much on this toxin, and aren't sure whether or not there  
are perhaps unforeseen latent effects."  
  
"That'll be fine" He said. That's when he remembered; He wasn't the  
only key witness. Chloe and Clark were key witnesses as well. Surely,  
his father had gone after them as well.  
  
"Doctor?" he asked  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"There's someone I'd like you to check your databases on. Chloe  
Sullivan. She'll likely be in Smallville, at the Smallville Medical  
Center. She's a close friend, and another witness. I'd feel much  
better if I knew her condition"  
  
"I'll get right to it." The fiery haired doctor said, trying to hide  
her slight disappointment and jealousy at the mention of another  
woman's name. She had come to be quite fond of the unconscious Lex  
Luthor in the past few days. Now she realized he was quite a different  
individual in person. However, it wasn't as if she didn't watch  
television or keep up with current events, even with all of her plants  
to care after. There was another witness, a teenage farm-boy.  
  
"Is there anyone else you'd like me to check on?"  
  
"No. Just Ms. Sullivan"  
  
"Alright then, I'll get... right to it", she said with a grin. "  
and I'll have the nurse play some soothing music for you." With  
that, the nurse got up and played a CD of soothing sounds, the  
first track being South Pacific shores.  
  
'Hmm he must not have known the farm-boy', she thought, drifting  
back into the sea of white coats. 


	3. On Hospital Gowns and Highlights

Tick. Inhale. Tock. Exhale. Beep. Tick. Inhale. Tock. Exhale. Beep. Tick...  
  
Chloe Sullivan never liked being in Hospital beds. They were always so... clean. Nothing like your average bed: unmade, likely stained, and at least somewhat stylish. But these, these nauseatingly clean, perfectly made, all- white fashion monstrosities, they really, well, sucked.  
What sucked more, however, was not knowing quite why you were in one. Last she knew, Chloe was exploring the caves with Clark Kent for the cause of the mysterious death of one of the ravers at last night's rave. Just why she was at the rave last night in the first place was still a mystery. She tried to defend herself against her own conscious with weak arguments of " Well, a girl can have some fun, can't she?", but her conscious got the best of her, again.  
Which brought her here. Just why in hell was she here? Her inner journalist wouldn't leave the question untouched. She had the creeping sensation that she had either done something really, really bad, or that she had uncovered some really, really big story. She also had the creeping sensation that it had something to do with the ever oh so cute, ever oh so mysterious Clark Kent, but she just chocked it up as "well he was with me last, remember..." Damned by association. Further puzzling was the black streaks in her hair. Just how in the blue, or well ,rather black, hell did they get there? Some sort of makeover while she was asleep? A sick joke by some of her friends? "Really, Chloe Sullivan, black is just about as much your color as anything... un-pink is Lana Lang's" she said aloud, with a little bit of a chuckle at her own witty snark. It was always good that she could find a way to crack herself up, even in the direst of situations, such as mysterious highlights in one's hair, especially ones that so don't go with white hospital gowns. At that notion, she had to remind herself that they had kept her... personals... on when they put her in the hospital gown. That was the other reason why she didn't like hospital beds: being in one meant that you were in a paper thin hospital gown as well. That meant two things: you were bound to be freezing cold, which really wasn't helped by the thin blankets they gave you, and your being given the basic American right to wearing underwear ( unless of course, you were a nudist, or really skanky) was doubtful, at best. And although she could understand the medical necessity, she couldn't help but wonder why some hospitals refused to let you keep your undergarments on, such as Metropolis Med, which she had visited once, but thankfully not as a patient. Her dad, Gabe, was having surgery, and constantly complained about the cold and his, well, lack of underwear. Ever since then, Chloe had made sure she was properly clothed when she had to visit the good ole hospital bed. Not that she didn't like to entertain the idea of some cute resident male nurse seeing her little cute white rear from time to time, it was just that real exhibitionism really wasn't her thing. Thankfully, the door opened before she entertained anymore thoughts on cute resident male nurses and the like. It was Clark Kent, and he didn't seem all that comfortable around her. 'must be the highlights', she mused to herself, though not aloud. Infact, he seemed downright embarrassed in front of her. She yet again reminded herself that she did infact have undergarments on underneath her paper thin hospital gown, although she had yet to notice they were frilly red ones, and therefore quite visible, had it not been for the thin blanket over her. "Well, I guess it's door number one then," she thought to herself " Something really, really bad. Well, at least he'll have answers..." "Heya Clark," she said cheerily, deciding to hold back the inner journalist at least until they greeted each other. 


	4. Silent Pains

Silence. Inhale Silence. Exhale. Silence. Silence. Inhale Silence. Exhale.  
  
Where as fire had once engulfed her body, Chloe Sullivan was now surrounded by a static, sterile, silent world of plastic, in little more than a very thin paper shirt in a plastic bed with plastic sheets . Morphine was constantly being pumped into her blood stream in order to help dull the pain. She was unconscious, and wasn't moving, as something in her unconscious had told her not to move, so as to keep the pain to a minimum. She had gone through several surgeries already, and seemed to be on the road to an almost full recovery. Her hair and eyelashes would grow back, her skin would regenerate itself, and the gashes and scars all over her body would be healed. Her spinal column, however, was beyond medical help. The blast had thrown her 20 feet, which quite possibly saved her life. However, as fate would have it, it had thrown her 20 feet into a tree, paralyzing her from he waist down, with little chance of recovery.  
They had decided ahead of time that they wanted someone close to the patient to tell her the bad news, all of it. Where as Chloe Sullivan was saved from the blast, her father, Gabe, was not so lucky. The only way they had known that he was there with her was through his wedding ring, which had been found by the investigation team that had searched the site. Martha Kent was waiting for the call from the hospital when Chloe woke up. The Kents had decided that, should worst come to worst, they could let Chloe stay with them until a suitable family was found for her. They would have adopted her, but something about the journalist snooping around their property ( and sheds, for that matter) didn't sit right with them.  
The Kent's phone rang. Martha answered it, with Jonathan looking on hopefully. The Kents had put out fliers in search of Clark. "This is she... ...mmhhhmm,... yes, yes, of course. ...Uhuh... ...I understand. I'll be right down." She hung up the phone  
"Jonathan, Chloe woke up, they knocked her out again, but the sedative will wear off within the hour. I have to go."  
  
Chloe had woken with a start. The first things she noticed were all the plastics, the cold, and her lack of real clothing. Then she noticed she couldn't feel her legs. Then came the pain, as her body finally gave up on concealing it. The screaming, searing, blinding pain. She screamed out for what seemed like forever. A nurse came in hurriedly, being scanned for any bacterium first. She tried to comfort Chloe, who was now crying her eyes out, and crying further still as the tears trickled down her burned face. The nurse quickly realized she had t subdue her, adding a sedative into her drip that put her out cold, and adding in a little more morphine. Silently, Chloe Sullivan went into a cold, unconscious slumber, completely unaware of the all her pains to come. 


End file.
